


The Green-Eyed Monster

by star_named_andy



Series: Shakespeare Does a Funny Thing [2]
Category: The Hobbit (1977), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Party, ROMANTIC DORKS, References to Shakespeare, Starbucks, jealous!feren, these guys are dorks seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:41:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3633660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_named_andy/pseuds/star_named_andy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a Starbucks date, singing their hearts out and sharing a surprise kiss, college students Bard Bowman and Thranduil Oropherion find themselves in an awkward position, like many dorky, flirting college kids do. When Bard tries to make things right, someone tries to interfere - the infamous green-eyed monster. Will Bard and Thranduil be able to get past this obstacle and make things right between them with the help of Shakespeare's words?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Green-Eyed Monster

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the second part of the Barduil College/Shakespeare series since everyone loved the first one so much (including me)! It looks like this series may go on a little longer than I expected - thanks again to elfandbowman on tumblr for having the prompt that started it all!! :3 Enjoy!
> 
> (Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, or any of its characters or content. I also make no claims to owning any of William Shakespeare's work.)

Coffee was by far no unfamiliar scent to Bard, seeing as he lived on a college campus and you could never go anywhere without seeing someone with a steaming cup of coffee in their hands, but as soon as he opened the door for Thranduil to enter the Starbucks café, he was thrown off by the overbearing rush of coffee smell surging through his nostrils. He never drank coffee in excess since the taste was not overly favorable to his tongue, but he did tolerate it on occasion only for its wondrous aroma and the lift its caffeine provided on sluggish mornings. It was rare, then, that he would ever get himself coffee from any of the nearby cafes and he was happy that he didn’t enjoy it enough to crave it because he knew many people that would give someone the shirt off their back for a taste if they had no money.

Of all of the places that Bard had treated himself to a small bit of coffee from, Starbucks had never been one of them for specific reasons; everyone knew that Starbucks products were not cheap in price and Bard figured “Why spend more money on something I can get for a lesser price?”. Besides, the place was always packed with business professionals in a hurry and college kids that were either trying to sober up or just get through the day with eyes open, even if they were bloodshot from fatigue or stress. Needless to say, Bard had never stepped foot in a Starbucks and he never intended on doing so before now, and he didn’t mind it either. Being a young man who worked hard for his earnings, he did not throw his cash around easily, but he deemed this chance date with junior _Thranduil Oropherion_ an opportunity worth spending his money on.

Bard was still trying to wrap his head around what was happening. He could believe that the night of taking care of the gorgeous, drunken upperclassmen actor was real, but just barely. Now he was taking this guy on a date. This outing was just a coffee date, sure, but to Bard every unbelievable moment that was passing by meant the world to him in a weird way. Bard had a secret eye for Thranduil ever since his gaze fell upon the tall blonde in spectating a play at the college for the very first time and there was no denying that. Now, as Thranduil sashayed through the threshold of the coffee shop with a cute smile playing on his lips, the distance from which Bard had admired Thranduil had become remarkably shorter in the blink of an eye and it made Bard crush on him even harder. Just being able to look at Thranduil up close was dream-like and the doors to who he really was were opening; Bard was finally hearing Thranduil’s true voice, still lulling as ever, in common talk for a greater length of time than ever before, he was hearing his natural laughter which tolled like soft silver bells or a cheerful little waterfall, and he was noticing all of his instinctual mannerisms like rubbing the tips of his ears between his fingers and flipping his golden tresses as he pleased(such things had to be restricted in the setting of performance).

His reasoning told him that this date would most likely mark the end of their strange, coincidental relationship, but for now he would just enjoy himself as much as he could and leave any possible sulking at their imminent separation for later – he was bound to be sulking if Thranduil kept acting as wonderfully charming as he was. The personality beaming from him was only making Bard’s admiration for him more profound; for Bard, personality and heart were the clinchers, but there was still so much about Thranduil he didn’t know.

“What’s your favorite color?” Bard asked suddenly and Thranduil looked down upon his humble escort from his great height with an expression that could only be described as purely pleasant.

“I like earthy colors.” Thranduil’s voice rose. How could someone’s voice be so strong, yet so soothing all at once, Bard wondered? “Most particularly variants of green and brown – your eyes are the perfect mixture of the two.” As he proclaimed this, his hypnotic eyes looked deeply into Bard’s and Bard could feel a flush run across his cheeks and all through his neck; it was such a simple and delicate compliment, but Bard felt like he’d break into a thousand pieces. “Burnt orange also has a special place in my heart.” Thranduil continued and Bard nodded zealously.

“Oh, yes, orange is nice.” He spoke more awkwardly than he liked to admit and Thranduil let a laugh hum in his chest.

“Is that your favorite color, then?”

“No, I’d say blue is my favorite – not because of your eyes, since we’re talking about eyes and the color of each other’s eyes – well, you’re talking about _my_ eye color – you were - but _now_ I’m talking about your…my favorite color is blue. You have nice blue eyes, very nice.” Bard concluded with a clearing of his throat and Thranduil simply tipped his head up, looking forward coolly as if completely unmoved by Bard’s stuttering compliments.

“Thank you…what will you get?” His mesmerizing attractiveness and the fact that Bard had no clue what he was going to order made him speechless.

“Just coffee with cream and sugar. Nothing too extravagant.” Bard finally answered and Thranduil tilted his head at him. The gesture wasn’t followed by any words, for they then advanced to the counter to give their orders to the barista whose nametag read “Feren”.

“Hey, Thranduil.” he greeted and Thranduil gave a curt nod. “The usual for you?”

“Sure. Make it a grande.” Thranduil replied. Bard arched a brow at the barista’s unpleasant tone and attitude; perhaps he was imagining it, but he swore that he must have been scowling at him like he didn’t belong there.

“And for you?” Feren directed toward Bard, letting his sharp brown eyes flare up and down his body.

“Coffee with cream and sugar – the smallest you have, please.”

“Is that a tall or a small?” Feren asked with bitterness rolling from his tongue.

“The smallest of the those two.”

“A small. Alright.”

Bard slipped the money over to Feren and once he was handed his receipt, he and Thranduil scooted over to the waiting area and Bard raised a question.

“You know him?”

“Yeah, that’s Feren. He goes to our school, you know. He’s part of the theatre department.” Thranduil said plainly.

“Oh, I hadn’t known…he does look a little familiar, I guess. Was he in Midsummer?”

“Yeah. He was one of the fairies.”

“And he’s here already? No wonder he’s in a sour mood, he must be tired.”

Their drinks appeared and Feren was soon again buzzing back over to the first station to wait on more customers. Thranduil’s eyes gleamed with desire as he gazed upon the large, pink drink smothered in whipped cream and Bard’s brows jumped in surprise.

“What on Earth is that?” he asked amusedly.

“It’s only the yummiest thing in the world.” Thranduil answered with his tongue sloping down onto the straw and closing his eyes as the first rush of pink slush flowed over his tongue. Bard tried not to stare, especially when Thranduil licked his lips afterward. “It’s a vanilla bean frappuccino with a pump of raspberry syrup, or as I like to call it: heaven. It’s called a cotton candy frap.”

“But its not cotton candy at all, from the sound of it.”

“Nope. I don’t know why they call it that, but it’s _so_ delicious. Here, try some.”

The straw was quickly in front of Bard’s face and he tentatively took a sip of the bright, foreign drink. His face instantly wrinkled at the overbearing sweetness and Thranduil rang out a jovial laugh.

“You really _do_ have a sweet tooth.” Bard said and took down a sip of his own plain coffee to wash away the strong taste of raspberry dancing on his tongue.

“I sure do.” Thranduil admitted with a cheeky grin and his lips were around his straw again.

Bard was too afraid to touch Thranduil as freely as he had done the night before, even though it was only a hand or an arm of support here and there, so he went ahead and found them a table for two. Before Thranduil could sit, Bard pleaded for him to wait as he gave the table top and its chairs a proper wipe down. Thranduil waited mutely while slurping down more of his sweet drink until Bard pulled out a chair for him.

“Such a gentleman.” Thranduil commented as he was pushed inward toward the table and Bard sat across from him. “Thank you for the treat.”

“Of course. It’s the least I could do, I suppose, after all of the entertainment you’ve provided me.” Bard said sweetly, but his eyes grew wide as Thranduil’s moon-like orbs flickered up at him from beneath his lashes. “In the plays! The plays! That’s what I meant, by that.” His fumbling resolved in a grin as Thranduil’s expression formed into one of understanding and amusement. “I told you that last night, but I wasn’t sure if you remembered. I hope that’s not strange.”

“I don’t remember that bit, but you did mention that earlier after the show.”

“I did?”

“Mmhm.”

“Sorry, my head is spinning a bit.”

“No worries. I’m very glad you enjoy the shows, Bard. It’s not strange at all – what is strange _is_ that you can recite Shakespeare by heart and you haven’t auditioned.”

“ _That_ you remember.” Bard murmured a little embarrassedly, running his thumb over the lid of his cup.

“Of course. It’s one of the reasons I’m here.”

“What are the other reasons?” Bard inquired with unintentional flirtatiousness and Thranduil smirked as he leaned on the tabletop.

“Maybe I’ll divulge on that matter later. I really would like to know why you aren’t involved in the annual Shakespeare performances.”

“I’m not an actor, like you.”

“You aren’t, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be. You don’t have to be on the stage; I just figured a die-hard, closet Shakespeare fan like yourself would _want_ to be involved in some way. Do you enjoy Hamlet?”

“Very much so,” Bard admitted with a sparkle in his eyes – he really did love the tale and it was in his top three favorite Shakespeare pieces along with A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Troilus and Cressida.

“I’ll give you an inside tip.” Thranduil said and then let his eyes scan their surroundings before spilling his secret. “Next year’s annual Shakespeare performance will be Hamlet.” A noise of distress and desire formed in the sound of a sigh from Bard’s lips and Thranduil gave an understanding nod and laugh, satisfied in his capturing the young man into his allurements. “Yes, I know. Such an opportunity should not be missed on your part.”

“Even if I did audition, I am not sure my lack of talent would do me much good. Besides, I hardly have the time for it.”

“Stubborn.” Thranduil huffed lightly and let his gaze float to the window. “You cannot say you lack something when you have not tried to exercise it.”

“Why so persistent?”

“It’s always nice to have more enthusiastic members within the cast and crew. I know for a fact that more than half of that cast does not appreciate Shakespeare as much as you do…but, I’ll stop pestering you about it for now.”

The “for now” gave Bard the slightest inkling of hope that Thranduil intended on pestering, or speaking more him in the future. Just then Bard noticed how the moonbeams flattered Thranduil’s upright form so majestically, casting a sheen over his golden head and revealing how pale Thranduil truly was. His posture was outstanding as he leaned back against his chair and made Bard straightened his back.

“How about some more questions?” Thranduil suggested softly as he turned his gaze back to Bard.

“Alright; do you wish to be an actor for the rest of your days? To make it your career?”

“I will always be a part of theatre, it will always be a part of me; whether or not acting will be my career is debatable. I could very well change my mind. Who knows? At times I think I’d like to utilize my mind more with something academic. What is your major? I don’t even know.”

“Humanitarian studies.”

The two went on to converse about their dreams, their fears about the future, their favorite books, foods, movies, seasons and so on. Bard liked to ask those sorts of simple questions and Thranduil seemed to enjoy answering them and asking them too. It amazed Bard that Thranduil genuinely seemed interest in such idle talk that may seem meaningless to some, but for two people getting to know each other, the little details were everything.

There was light mention of their homes and families; Thranduil was very brisk on answering questions about his home life, but it came at the end of their babbling back and forth. Bard was slow to finish his drink because he was so distracted by their conversations, but Thranduil had sucked down his sugary beverage quickly. When Bard noticed Thranduil’s empty cup, he realized they had spent an hour and a half just sitting there and talking. Once Thranduil relieved himself in the bathroom, they decided to depart, heading back to Bard’s beat up pickup truck. Bard again opened the passenger side door for Thranduil who climbed in with immense poise.

“What obligations do you have tomorrow?” Thranduil questioned.

“I have to work tomorrow afternoon.”

“Do you ever have days off?”

“If I ask for them, yes, but I try to avoid that unless I’m sick or I really need the day to study.”

“So you won’t be making the last show day? There are two; a matinee and a night performance since its Sunday.”

“I suppose I will be missing it, then, unfortunately.”

“Well, we’re having a big cast party after the night show is over in Mirkwood house. You’re invited. It won’t be just the theatre people, so don’t feel like you’d be out of place.”

“Oh, but I would! The only reason I was at that party last night was to fix some lights.” Bard admitted with a sheepish laugh and Thranduil snickered.

“That was my fault.”

“What did you-?”

“No, no, not important. So you’re not a party person, I take it?”

“Hardly.”

“If you change your mind, the invitation stands. It’s at nine o’clock and I promise not to get trashed.”

“Party on a Sunday? You guys are wild. I might be tired after work, but I’ll think about it.” Bard strained. He _really_ didn’t want to even consider it. Being with Thranduil one on one was different than being around him with other strangers around who fawned over Thranduil left and right at a _college party_.

“If you don’t come I won’t be mad…just a little disappointed.” Thranduil sighed and Bard smirked.

“The old guilt trip, huh?”

Thranduil gave an innocent shrug of his shoulders as he rubbed the upper tip of his ear and Bard swooned at the gesture. Were Thranduil’s flirtations calculated, or did it just come naturally to him? Both theories were equally intimidating.

As they went along, the radio played and suddenly a familiar tune started up: “My Humps” by The Black Eyed Peas. Thranduil apparently knew the song because he started reciting the lyrics, bobbing his head and doing flourishing, dramatic hand gestures as he sang close to Bard’s face.

“Whatcha gonna do with all that junk, all that junk inside your trunk?” he sang. “Imma get, get, get, get you drunk! Get you love drunk off _my hump_! My hump my hump, my hump my hump my hump, my hump my hump my hump, my lovely little lumps - check it out!”

He sang obnoxiously all the way through the first verse and Bard knew that the second was approaching and _he knew the words_.

“I met a girl down at the disco, she said ‘hey hey hey ya let’s go’! I can be ya baby, you could be my honey. Let's spend time not money and mix your milk with my coco puff, milky milky coco, mix your milk with my coco puff, milky milky riiiight-” And then Bard cut in.

“They say I'm really sexy, the boys they wanna sex me. They always standin' next to me, always dancin' next to me. Tryin' a feel my _hump hump_ , lookin' at my _lump lump_. You can look but you can't touch it, if you touch it, I'm a start some drama! You don't want no drama! No, no drama! No, no, no, no drama! So don't pull on my hand boy - you ain't my man boy! I'm just tryin' a dance boy, and move my hump!”

Thranduil burst out into an insane laughter, a noise that Bard had no idea Thranduil was capable of making. His alabaster cheeks bloomed red instantaneously as he cackled wildly in amusement and shrieked, kicking his legs excitedly.

“NO WAY! You know this song?!” he exclaimed delightedly and Bard flashed a huge grin.

“Are you kidding? _Yeah_ , I know this song! I love The Black Eyed Peas!”

He proceeded to pull a Black Eyed Peas CD case from the inside of his door and handed over to Thranduil, whose jaw was almost unhinged it hung so low. Thranduil demanded to see what else he had in his collection; included in Bard’s many CDs were Miley Cyrus, Katy Perry, Fall Out Boy, The Killers, Queen, Beyoncé, and Thranduil nearly keeled over when he found a Destiny’s Child CD.

They sang their way through “Say My Name”, “Bugga Boo” and “Lose My Breath” by the time they rolled back onto campus. Bard pulled up in front of Mirkwood house, shutting the car off and bringing silence back into the car. They were both a little flushed and winded from singing their hearts out, but they turned to face one another simultaneously while baring wide grins.

“Well, that was f-”

Before Bard could finish his sentence, his breath was stolen right out of his mouth as Thranduil inhaled deeply before melding their lips together. Bard froze as Thranduil’s hand clamped on the back of his neck and held him firmly in place as he deepened the sudden, vastly unexpected kiss. His heart smashed against his chest as if it wanted to bust right out and scurry off for no reason other than it was frightened and caught off guard, like a young, inexperienced wild animal. All that Bard could think was: “ _He tastes like raspberry_ ”.

Bard’s hands pressed against Thranduil’s chest, creating distance between the two and Thranduil gasped as he looked upon Bard with his hues swirling with worry.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered with a tone of bewilderment as his hand fell limp on the back of Bard’s hot neck. Bard didn’t even know why he had given a push to separate himself from Thranduil and he didn’t have any words. He wanted to say a bunch of things, but none of the jumbled formations of words frantically trying to organize themselves in his head were right.

“Thank you again.” Thranduil said shortly and then in a flash, he was out of the truck and behind the door to Mirkwood house. He was gone and Bard was still speechless.

“Shit.” Bard sighed, scolding himself as he rested his head against the steering wheel.

Bard contemplated messaging Thranduil from the moment he left the car. He opened up the messenger dozens of times and stared at the screen, hoping sufficient words would come to him. Was he supposed to apologize? Had he offended Thranduil? Did Thranduil think he offended _him_? He typed up a few messages, some lengthy paragraphs and others just short sentences, but he never sent any of them. In between he would scroll through Thranduil’s newsfeed and ogle at pictures of him and all of his friends; they were all tremendous whether they were purposeful and artistic, candid, or goofy.

He was on the clock for work the next afternoon, running around repairing fixtures at lightning speed. He hadn’t decided if he would be going to the Mirkwood house party, especially after the estranged parting he had with Thranduil, but _just in case_ he _did_ decide to go, he wanted to make sure he finished all of his runs on time. He thought of Thranduil all the while which irked him; never had he ever been so distracted during work. His thoughts didn’t downgrade the efficiency of his skill any, but his mind was busy none the less as he schemed up more imperfect things to say to Thranduil. The first show time was fast approaching and he couldn’t let the start of the last night pass by without saying _something_ to Thranduil.

Bard Bowman: good luck on your final day – i wish I could be there. i know you will be great.

There was no response as the time ticked on and places were surely being called for all of the actors and the audience was waiting for the lights to come up with eager anticipation. Even as Bard guessed intermission would be starting, Thranduil had seen the message and there was still no answer. Bard wasn’t sure if knowing Thranduil had seen the message was good or bad, seeing as there was no response. No notifications came as hours passed.

Ten o’clock came and Bard was incessantly questioning himself as to why he was rushing back to his room after finishing all of his work orders – he didn’t want to go to this party and he would be an hour late, but for some reason his mind was set on going. He was determined to make things right with Thranduil and this was the soonest he could try.

As he thrust himself into his dorm room, his roommate Bilbo Baggins poked his head up from his book, snug in his Hufflepuff sweatpants and a large Avengers t-shirt Bard knew to belong to Thorin Oakenshield (Bilbo’s high school sweetheart).

“Well hello there!” Bilbo greeted and furrowed his brows as Bard started stripping out of his uniform while darting to his dresser which was identical to Bilbo’s. The furnishings were all the same, since they were provided by the school, and they were set up in a similar manner that provided them the little free space they had in the room: two beds with the heads planted against the left wall, across from the foot of the beds on the right wall were their dressers, and their desks were in the corners of the right wall next to their dressers. The divided closet they shared was behind the door. It was very plain and a little cramped at times if there were more than two people in the room, but neither Bilbo or Bard complained about it excessively unless they stubbed their toes or something.

Bilbo’s side of the room was decorated with a plethora of photos of his family, friends and his beloved Thorin, along with a bevy of stuffed animals. Bard had just one picture of him and his parents from graduation day sitting framed on his dresser. Bilbo placed a marker between his pages before closing his book and rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

“In a hurry, are you?”

“Kind of,” Bard answered absently. He picked through his folded shirts, scrutinizing each one as he quickly looked upon them. He didn’t want to wear just any old raggedy thing; he was going to see Thranduil, after all. He ended up throwing on a plain quarter sleeve white shirt.

“I don’t mean to be nosy, but where are you going? You’re a hermit unless you’re working and you’re done for the night.”

“I’m going to a party.” The words made Bard’s stomach churn and he could hear Bilbo thrash in his bed as he pulled on a pair of jeans.

“YOU WHAT?! BARD BOWMAN IS GOING TO A PARTY?!” Bilbo shouted and Bard cringed.

“Yeah, I know, I know, but not to party. I’m going to see someone; I forgot to mention that I sort of went on a date with Thranduil Oropherion and he invited me to the theatre department cast party tonight.”

“Oh. My. GOD. BARD! Bard, why didn’t you _say anything_?! Oh my god, this is _such_ a big deal!”

Bard turned to see Bilbo jumping up and down on the floor next to his bed and he laughed as he ruffled his fingers through his hair.

“Don’t freak me out more than I already am.”

“You’re just going to take off and give me no details? How did this happen? I need to know _everything_.”

“And you’ll know everything, but I’m already late. Do you want to come with me?”

“Boy would I, but I have to study. I slacked off a bit and need to jam a few more things into my brain before my exam tomorrow morning. IF EVER THERE WAS A TIME FOR ME TO BE A PROCRASTINATOR, WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE NOW?!” Bilbo flopped onto his bed with a dramatic whine.

“Next time-”

“Next time?”

“ _If_ there’s a next time, we’ll both go if you really want to, but I’m not sure how this is going to go. I just need to figure things out with him.”

“Why? Did something happen?” Bilbo asked with concern rising in his voice and Bard shrugged as he pulled on a nice pair of lace up loafers he’d gotten for his last birthday.

“Kind of – its hard to explain.”

“BARD, you can’t leave me hanging like this!”

“A kiss, okay? There was a kiss. He kissed me and I blanked and he ran off. So to sum it up, I’m an idiot.” Bard finished tying up his shoes and grabbed his keys.

“I think I’m going to have a heart attack,” Bilbo sighed as he fanned himself with one hand and put his other over his chest.

“I’ll be back!” Bard said as he half swung himself out the door, but Bilbo shouted after him.

“WAIT, WAIT!”

“What, what?!”

“Do you need a condom?”

“ _What_? NO!”

“Just making sure you’re being safe, that’s all! I’m a pretty good dorm mate, you know.”

“I will not be having any sex tonight, thank you. Bye bye, now. Please be alive when I get back.”

As Bard finally exited the dorm room, he could hear Bilbo muttering something like “How am I supposed to sleep?!”, but he kept on going, hoping his tardiness wouldn’t displease Thranduil any further. He didn’t even know if Thranduil was angry with him or why he cared so much – well, he did know, but he didn’t want to think about it. They’d only been on _one date_ , after all…but, everything was different now that Thranduil had said he was done “pestering “ him about next year’s Shakespeare play “ _for now_ ”. Perhaps it meant nothing and Bard was looking too much into those few words, but he was dragging himself to the party none the less. He drove his truck over to Mirkwood house to save time and as he stared up at the glamorous dorm building, he started to feel a nervous sickness plaguing his stomach. Staring at it reaffirmed his opinion that Mirkwood house was definitely the most striking in appearance of all the “rich kid” houses, which made this task all the more difficult.

“Who cares? It’s just a house and they’re just people and I was _invited_. I’m here to see a friend and if he doesn’t want to see me, I’ll leave; nothing to worry about at all.” Bard said heatedly to himself, taking a deep breath and letting it fill his chest with confidence.

He knocked loudly on the door which was overelaborated with detailed carvings around the frame. As the door opened, Bard was surprised by how faint the music sounded inside. The guy standing at the door smiled at him welcomingly and Bard was sure he recognized him from somewhere. His chestnut colored hair was extremely neat and he wore brown trousers upheld by a thin leather belt and a purple dress shirt.

“Bard Bowman, the archery prodigy! Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” He said as he reached out and shook Bard’s hand – wow, someone actually knew him by his real name.

“Hello – likewise.”

“Sorry, I should have introduced myself; Elrond Lindon.”

“Oh, yes! You’re the junior class president!” Bard realized aloud as he stepped into the house.

He was secretly horrified that the class president was at a _party_ – Bard wasn’t such a prude, but he was very particular about following school rules. He feared if he were caught being anywhere near drugs or alcohol on school grounds that he would get his few scholarships revoked or worse, he’d be thrown out.

“Are you alright there, friend? You look a little under the weather.” Elrond spoke up and Bard blinked as he pressed his hand against his own cheek.

“I do?”

“Forgive me – you just look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

“Nothing like that, I’m just not a party goer.”

“Ah, I see.” Elrond said with an understanding nod. “But if that’s so, why are you here, if I may ask?”

“I’m actually looking for someone – Thranduil. Do you know where he is?”

“Uh…hm…I think he’s downstairs.”

“Do you mind showing me the way? I’ve never been here before.”

“Of course! Follow me.”

Elrond led him to a door which was vibrating from the loud music booming below. Elrond gave a final parting before disappearing elsewhere, leaving Bard alone with the door. As he opened it, he was bombarded by a rush of heat, the scent of body fragrances, sweat and alcohol mixed, and the sound of “Bang Bang” by Ariana Grande, Jessie J and Nicki Minaj.

“What a great start.” Bard muttered to himself. The staircase was poorly lit, so as he descended he held steadfast to the railing.

Everything before him was absolutely black, unless it was illuminated by the multicolored laser lights flitting about the walls and over the faces of people bobbing around in a mob of dance. On the far left wall was a long series of tables where drinks were being served. He stood toward the top of the stairs, scanning over the wide open space as best as he could in the darkness. He flattened himself as close to the railing as he could as Galadriel started up the stairs with Celeborn slumped over her shoulder.

“Do you need help?” Bard called over the music and Galadriel looked up at him. It took her a moment to realize who he was, but once she recognized him, she gave a sweet smile.

“If you could open the door, please.” Bard did just that and as Galadriel passed through with her woozy boyfriend, she spoke to Bard over her shoulder. “He’s not very good at holding his alcohol.”

“Will he be alright?” Bard asked and Galadriel nodded.

“He just needs to lie down. Thank you though, Bard.”

Galadriel whispered calming words into Celeborn’s ear as he whined about feeling ill. Bard left them to their business and continued descending down into what his nightmares were made of. How was he going to find Thranduil in the chaos?

He weaved through the crowd carefully and tight to himself, not wanting to bump into anyone and be noticed or have anything spilled on him; he could feel enough spilt drinks under his feet. He generally wasn’t so horribly shy, but the fact that he did not want to be at a _party_ of all places could not be stressed enough. He detested them, truly. He had been complaining about parties and how bothersome they were for two years and now he was betraying his own words by being there willingly. He wasn’t there to partake in whatever was going on in the house, was only there to visit a friend (if Thranduil could properly be called his friend), so things couldn’t be so bad as long as he ignored everything around him…so he hoped.

Bard gravitated toward the drink counter and put himself on his tippy-toes to look for Thranduil from a bit of a distance. He squinted his eyes to make out the details of the figures around him, but not one of them looked like it could be Thranduil. He feared he’d have to dive into the crowd of dancers (more like grinders), but then he applauded himself for having a _brilliant_ idea: he would send him a message! He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before! He fumbled to get his phone out of his pocket and just as he was typing up a message, he was bumped quite hard. Luckily, he didn’t drop his phone. When he looked up, he saw a pair of dark eyes glaring at him.

“Uh, sorry.” Bard apologized, even though it wasn’t really his fault. He expected an apology from Feren, but it never came.

“What are _you_ doing here?” he snapped and Bard was taken aback by his outright rudeness.

“I was invited.” Bard stated firmly and Feren’s eyes narrowed at him. His hair was again put back in a bun, but there were several strands of stray hairs hanging about his face, one of his shirt sleeves was rolled up and he was swaying back and forth lethargically with a red solo cup in his hand. It was safe to assume he was a little intoxicated.

“By who?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Bard said honestly and Feren’s jaw tightened.

“I almost feel sorry for you. You don’t know what he’s like.”

“Who?”

“Thranduil, _obviously_.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what he’s like.” Bard said with defensive heat rising in his tone – what was this guy’s problem?

“You’re right…you’ll find out on your own that he’s just amusing himself with you until he comes floating back to me like he always does.” Feren said with his smirk curving around the rim of his cup. _Now_ things were making sense; Feren must be an ex of Thranduil’s or…something like that. Bard wasn’t sure what their relationship was and he kept reminding himself that Feren was a little drunk and he was probably just trying to insult Bard because he had seen the two on a date and was jealous…even so, his heart sank a little at hearing those words. “I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but he was pretty into me when we were dancing. He’ll be coming back to me anytime now, so don’t get attached. You’ll just end up with a broken heart.”

Bard couldn’t think of a rebuttal before Feren went on his merry way. Would Thranduil really dance with his ex? What did it matter? They’d only been on a date and weren’t in a relationship – really, Thranduil could date one hundred guys and it wouldn’t matter because he was single. Bard’s head began to spin and he felt suddenly angry with himself and with everything that had went on between him and Thranduil in the past three days or so. He was reaching way out of his world – he didn’t belong there at that party with people he didn’t know and he didn’t want to be there. Why was he bending over backwards to make things right with this guy? He was just a normal guy that was seeming more and more like an unfit match for him. He closed the messenger and put his phone back in his pocket.

He shoved his way to the stairs and wanted to make it to his truck before he started furiously cursing at himself or crying from frustration (yes, he was an angry crier and he hated it). He was an idiot for being so careless and fawning over Thranduil like everyone else did and it infuriated him. Though he didn’t want to believe it at all, Thranduil probably knew how badly Bard liked him and didn’t even consider him seriously because _everyone_ loved Thranduil. What did it matter what Bard felt? The dream that was his time with Thranduil was meant to be only that – a dream.

He stormed up the stairs when he and Galadriel almost collided.

“Oh – sorry.” Bard said; he couldn’t be rude no matter what mood he was in. Galadriel hadn’t done him any wrong.

“Don’t be sorry at all! You were just the person I was coming to find!” she declared and Bard arched a brow.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You’re Bard Bowman, dragonslayer, are you not?”

“I am, I am. What’s going on? Is Celeborn okay?”

“Oh, he’s fine.” She said with an easy wave of her hand. “He’s fast asleep on the couch in one of the study rooms now that he had a good vomit. I was looking for you for a different reason; I mentioned to Thranduil that I saw you since he told me he invited you. He didn’t think you were coming. He said not to come get you and just leave you be, but he’s sulking, so I knew I had to come find you and make sure you saw each other before you left.” Bard’s clenched fists softened and his face relaxed.

“Why is he sulking? Is something wrong?” he asked and Galadriel looked away unknowingly.

“Ohhh, I don’t know…maybe something to do with a date ending in an awkward kiss?” Of course she knew. How, Bard didn’t know, but she shrugged with a smile. “I know when Thranduil isn’t his usual self, so I squeezed a bit information out of him to find out what was up. He’s very distraught over the whole thing.”

“He _is_?”

“Will you see him? He’s up in his room.”

“Sure.”

And just like that Bard was trapped again. He couldn’t rightfully leave Thranduil to brood if he was as distressed as Galadriel said he was over the end of their date. She led him upstairs where the bedrooms were held and into the north section. Thranduil’s dwelling was on the third and top floor in a hall he only shared with one other person. She left him with a soft pat on the shoulder and Bard stood tentatively before Thranduil’s door. His name on his door tag was written in cursive with green glitter glue which made Bard smile a bit. He knocked.

“Who is it?” Thranduil called from within.

“Bard.”

Bard heard rapid stomping around inside the room before the door flew open so fast that Thranduil’s loose hair was blown by the sudden inward rush of air. As he looked at Bard, his face formed into an expression of utter bewilderment.

“I told Galadriel not to bother you.” He spoke slowly and Bard shook his head.

“I’m not bothered.” He replied softly. His sour feelings had simmered even more upon seeing Thranduil’s genuine surprise at him standing there before him.

“Come in.” Thranduil said and gestured for Bard to step inside.

The bedroom was bigger than Bard’s, but not by much. Still, Thranduil had the whole room to himself. On the walls were play and musical posters, some signed by past cast mates, some by celebrities, and others plain without any autographs. The bed was made, the silver and grey sheets and comforters tucked in under the mattress and the pillow cases free of any wrinkles. The books and papers on the desk were neatly arranged beside a bottle of wine and a glass to accompany it and his laptop screen was aglow. On the above shelf attached to the desk squeezed between the shelf's end and Thranduil's other books was a framed photo of him and two very blonde people dressed for some elegant event. He presumed that the two were Thranduil's parents, but he couldn't get a proper look at the photo from afar. The window was open with the translucent curtains billowing lightly at the whim of the breeze. Every other space was occupied by vases and bouquets of flowers with Bard's silver bowed lily among them.

“You’re here.” Thranduil spoke, breaking Bard from admiring the bedroom. Bard turned to look at him and saw a different side of Thranduil; he was slanted, letting his weight shift to one side with a hip popped out and his hands were hidden in his pockets. He looked confused, like he hadn’t even invited Bard at all and had no idea what he was doing there.

“Should I not be? I thought the invitation was still valid.” Bard said and Thranduil’s blue orbs glimmered as they widened.

“No, it is, it is. I just didn’t think you would…why are you here? I thought…sorry.” He said hurriedly and resolved in a sigh, clearly irritated with his flustered behavior. This new image of Thranduil was a bit startling, for Bard never thought that Thranduil was overly invested or interested in him.

“What is light, if Thranduil be not seen? What is joy if Thranduil be not by?...That’s why I’m here.” Bard recited the quote with a personal twist which made Thranduil grin coyly and show a light blush. Bard’s stomach tightened at how cute Thranduil looked then – he wasn’t just majestic and handsome and gorgeous, but adorable too.

"The Two Gentlemen of Verona…very clever.” Thranduil said and rubbed the tip of his ear with his eyes averted to the floor. “I’m sorry for kissing you like that.”

“Why did you run off? Just because I pushed you away?”

“I wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction, honestly...I sort of just blanked and I didn’t know what to do. I’m very embarrassed and truly sorry if I offended you.” His eyes were now locked with Bard’s and they were filled with sincerity. Bard’s heart swelled.

“No offense here. I can imagine you’re not used to people saying no to you.”

“That sounds awful, but…you’re kind of right.” Thranduil said with a frown and Bard supplied a soft chuckle.

“I didn’t know what to do either, you know. You took me completely by surprise. I never thought in a thousand years that you would _kiss_ _me_ , my god.” Bard rattled and Thranduil tilted his head.

“Why wouldn’t I kiss you?”

“Well, you’re…um…I’m not your type. You’re marvelous and I’m plain. I’m just another fan hoping that we would meet someday face to face and Feren…I’m going to stop talking now.” Bard pinned his eyes to the floor, feeling a burning in his cheeks.

“Feren?” Thranduil questioned, his voice abruptly turning firm. “Did he say something to you?”

“Earlier, yes, but it’s not important.”

“It _is_. Please tell me.”

“He said that you were keeping yourself busy with me before bouncing back to him.”

Thranduil made an extremely displeased noise and Bard looked up at him with shock. His brows were fixed in a point, purely vexed.

“ _That little_ … oh, beware, my lord, of jealousy; it is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock the meat it feeds on!” Thranduil declaimed and Bard instantly recognized the phrase from Othello. “Don’t you listen to anything he says. Feren and I…we’ve had things going on in the past, but I’ve stopped it for good this time and he doesn’t like that. I’m finished with him. I can’t believe he’d do that – well actually, I can.”

“He said you danced.” Bard spoke up meekly and Thranduil’s face maddened even more.

“ _We_ didn’t do anything. He wouldn’t leave me alone which is why I’m even up here in the first place…Bard, I’m sorry he said that to you.”

“It’s okay.” Bard lied and his eyes fell back down to the floor again.

Bard shuddered as he felt cool hands on his cheeks. His face was gently guided up to meet Thranduil’s face hovering close to him. He could feel himself shaking and he desperately wanted it to stop, but Thranduil was far more imposing than anyone else Bard had ever met and he wanted Thranduil to like him so badly it was insane. It bothered him to no end to want to be close to someone so deeply, but his worries and his thoughts were hushed as Thranduil kissed him tenderly.

His strong hands fell to Bard’s shoulders and caressed his arms to calm him, but Bard still trembled, even as he dared to return a small peck.

“Don’t be afraid of me, I’m just a person…a person who likes Black Eyed Peas and Destiny’s Child.” Thranduil whispered with a smile curving his pretty lips. “You are too humble for your own good, dragonslayer. I will show you what you are really worth.”


End file.
